Routine || Rowan
@rowanxmoore
A few crew members had to evacuate the surface of their latest landing site early due to an unexpected storm. One that came in more rapidly than anticipated and far worse than initially predicted. Not before getting caught by the start of it though. Dexter was one of those individuals. Visibility diminished as the storm rushed in and he hadn’t even seen the debris coming right at him. Luckily, his helmet held, though his display was cracked and malfunctioning, leaving just enough of a micro-breech to allow radiation to begin leaking in. Meanwhile the pressure in his suit dropped and it became steadily more difficult to breathe, and focus, and walk....and remain conscious.
With the aid of the fellow crew members along with him, he made it back to the lander and they took off in time to escape the worsening storm. Dexter, however, did lose consciousness...and suffered the effect of some severe radiation poisoning. They were forced to abandon that little side mission and move on to the next, preserving all they could of the experiments on the surface their with what little time they’d had. Thankfully, all the data recorded was stored on a shared network with the ship’s systems as well so they could further analyze their findings for anything of possible significance.
It had been some time since the incident itself, but the effects were lasting and some symptoms didn’t even present for a week or so. Which meant frequent check-ups with the crew’s resident doctor, Rowan Moore. He didn’t mind her company and while he wasn’t particularly a fan of being poked and prodded, he was more than used to it with all of his service. As for Rowan, Dex had gotten to know her somewhat over the duration of the mission so far, and she’d gotten to know him some as well. They all learned about one another during the candidacy program in various aspects, but being confined to the same closed-quarters as the same handful of individuals every day for years meant getting to know them on a more personal level. Whether they shared many private details or not. You got to know their habits, their preferences, their comforts, and moods.
Some you get to know better than others. Some you get along with better than others. Some you connect with more than others.
“Dr. Moore,” he greeted casually as he wandered into the med bay for his scheduled exam and went through the habitual practice of awkwardly removing his shirt with a wince for her and taking a seat on the table. Since the radiation, the burn scars he’d previously obtained in the military had been tender. “How are you this evening?”